


The Proposition

by mcgarrygirl78



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, F/M, Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-22
Updated: 2012-07-22
Packaged: 2017-11-10 11:53:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/465973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgarrygirl78/pseuds/mcgarrygirl78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“The man is thorough…and he sounded a little smitten.  That doesn't mean he’ll love you.  It just means he loved fucking you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Proposition

**Author's Note:**

> This might become a series, I don’t know. All I know is this story was already in my mind as I was smack in the middle of writing the first one. Read Working Girl first so you'll know where the story came from.

It was raining the next morning when Emily got out of the cab in front of the Foggy Bottom office building. It was Saturday so the neighborhood wasn’t as active as usual, being just steps from the White House. She walked into the building and took the elevator to the ninth floor. Once there, she walked down the hall and through the heavy glass doors of Corridor Events. The place was practically deserted but she spoke to the few people hanging around. Then Emily stopped in front of her boss’ office.

“Is she in?” she asked Tim. They called him the gatekeeper. No one got to the boss without him. Most of the time he didn’t let that go to his head. Sometimes he did.

“Yes. She’s tired this morning.”

“I need to see her Tim.”

“She told me to let her know when you were here. Hold just a moment.” he picked up the phone and spoke quietly into it. It took all Emily had not to sigh and put her hands on her hips. It was Saturday; she didn’t want to be working either. She managed a smile when he hung up. “Go right in.”

“Thank you.”

Emily walked through the wood door, looking at the nameplate on the front. _Erin Strauss, Boss Lady_. She’d come up with that one herself. The woman was standing in front of the window watching the rain fall. 

Emily just watched her after closing the door. She had ramrod straight posture that always reminded Emily of her mother. She looked respectable and no nonsense in a purple sleeveless business suit and matching heels. Her blonde hair, natural, was pinned up to look both businesslike and rather naughty. It wasn’t as easy as people thought to pull off that look…porn movies had it all wrong.

“Please tell me there's coffee.” Emily finally spoke.

“It’s nice and hot but there's no Splenda.” Erin finally turned from the window and looked at her protégé. “I heard you made quite an impression last night.”

“Who did you hear that from?” Emily was so grateful that Erin didn’t have pussy coffee cups. She had big mugs and even though this would be Emily’s third cup of the morning she always liked them big.

“I heard it from the man himself. He was taken by you.”

“I don’t like to brag but a lot of them are.”

“A lot of them don’t offer serious money for six weeks of your time.” Erin said.

“That was real?” Emily raised an eyebrow as she added cream and sugar. “I thought it was the orgasm talking.”

“Unless he was still coming this morning it was real.”

“How much did he offer?”

“Have a seat.” Erin waved toward the overstuffed couch and Emily sat down. Then she sat down beside her. 

She’d seen girls come and go in this business; it was surely the nature of the beast. Emily was a part-timer but Erin always knew with the right connection that she could shoot into the stratosphere. No one wanted to be an old whore, it wasn’t pretty. Some of the girls came in looking for their meal ticket or sugar daddy. Some just loved sex and found it was easier to love when a lot of money came with it. 

Some were working through college, law school, or wanted to put their assets to more use than bachelor parties and champagne rooms. It took all kinds. Erin had been doing this for almost 20 years and she knew Emily Prentiss was special. She was brilliant, educated, cultured, beautiful, and had a body made for sin. She loved sex, she loved games, but she didn’t need this job. 

She wanted it, for now, but there was always something better coming. In a world where secrets passed through rooms like oxygen, she didn’t seem worried that it could come up one day and destroy her. She wasn’t a small town girl with some wide-eyes view of the world. This had always been her world. Emily just decided to fuck instead of getting fucked. Erin had made the same decision years ago; it was why they usually managed to get along so well.

“Would you consider doing this?” Erin asked.

“I don't know.” Emily shrugged. “I've never been asked for longer than a week before. I’d have to clear my schedule of all other engagements and that would be a pain in the ass. I have a handful of regulars who might not be happy with my disappearing. I’d have to lie to my parents but that’s not a problem at all.”

“What did you think of him last night?”

“He was handsome, cordial, good in bed, and that’s all I thought. He seemed new to this; you can spot a faker a mile away. I didn’t get a single bad vibe from him, but there was something. I don’t know what. I don’t want this to turn into a bad movie.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want him falling in love with me and thinking that it’s going to be reciprocated. It’s a job and sometimes the men get a little confused. It’s a hazard.”

“Do you think he might be one of those men?”

“I would have to get to know him a little better. I've never seen him around so he's either new to the scene or not from around here. I know he's not in politics because his clothes were too expensive. Those guys tend to shop off the rack except for the really big boys. He’s an enigma but many of them are on the first date.”

“He won't be an enigma to me for long.” Erin said. “I've got Penelope looking into him. I gave her two hours for everything she could dig up on Aaron Hotchner. That was ninety minutes ago.”

“His name is Aaron Hotchner?” Emily asked.

“You didn’t know?”

“He just told me to call him Hotch. He said he would call me Sophia because that was my name on the website. Who came up with Sophia? Please change it.”

“If you want it changed, we’ll change it. He called me at 4am and offered nearly a half million dollars for your time.”

“Are you shitting me?” Emily was rarely surprised. Even the things that did surprise her, she hid them well. She couldn’t hide this. That was a lot of money and there weren't many who could come off of it that easily. “Where would he get that kind of money? No offense, its nice and all, but a middle class guy could get a junior suite at the King George for the night.”

“Maybe he wanted to see how you reacted to a middle class man before pulling out the big guns.” Erin replied.

“Oh no, he pulled out the big gun last night.”

She smiled and her boss laughed. They’d seen all shapes and sizes in that business and they all talked about them. When you got a behemoth you didn’t keep it to yourself. Well you tried to but you always talked about it with the other girls and boys. One upmanship was also a big part of what they did. It was a jungle out there.

“I'm glad to hear it. Would you consider his offer?”

“How much would I make?” Emily asked. 

She pulled a clove from her giant Kenneth Cole satchel bag and Erin nodded. She didn’t mind if the workers smoked though she had a strict no drugs and little alcohol policy. Erin was a teetotaler herself. Emily didn’t know many of them in this town but she didn’t ask and Erin didn’t tell. Taking a deep breath, she lit the Ziganov Black Cherry flavored clove.

“Your time would be worth a quarter of a million dollars.” Erin said. “It would be six weeks, possibly traveling the globe. You could be in a variety of situations that I think you'd fit right into. You’d have to shower him with affection but I don’t know what he’s going to do for you. He asked if you could speak foreign languages and how far you had gone in your education. 

“He wanted to know if you had ever been married or traveled extensively outside of the United States. He asked if you had any drug or alcohol problems. He even asked if you had food allergies. The man is thorough…and he sounded a little smitten. That doesn't mean he’ll love you. It just means he loved fucking you.”

“I know.” Emily nodded. 

Anyone who came into this business hoping for the Julia Roberts happy ending always left before things got good. It was work; it was hard work being something someone else wanted. It wasn’t just about sex; hell lying on your back was the easy part. You couldn’t be yourself and you risked losing yourself in the process. There was a 3 to 5 year turnover; it was expected. 

You burned out, wanted out, struck gold, or accidentally got pregnant. Some got hooked on drugs and became cautionary tales. No one looked out for you in this world; you had to look out for yourself. Emily was lucky because she’d gotten close to some people. She kept her circle closed and tight.

“Excuse me ma'am,” Penelope Garcia knocked on the door and poked her head in. “Dragon boy said it was OK.”

“Don’t call me dragon boy!” Tim exclaimed from his desk.

“C'mon in Penelope.” Erin stifled her smile. “I hope you have good news for me.”

“I do ma'am.” Penelope walked into the room and handed Erin a folder. “Good morning, Emily.”

“Hey Garcia. Sorry about you having to work on a Saturday.”

“Don’t worry about me, the pay is excellent. It’s only the morning. I have plans for a Tank Girl marathon gaming session this afternoon and evening. It'll be good times.”

“Sounds like it.” Emily smiled.

“Holy hell.” Erin murmured as she flipped through the pages.

“What is it?” Emily looked at her. She leaned to pluck ashes from her clove into the ashtray on the table.

“This guy is…this guy is something.” Erin looked up from her reading. “Tell her what you found Penelope.”

“Aaron Hotchner is the 37 year old only son of State Senator Alexander Hotchner and the erstwhile Miss Amelia Deveraux of Manassas. He was educated at Fordham University and Duke Law. He was once considered to be a prospect for the National League but he left law school and went to work for the company his maternal great-grandfather built from the ground up. Your boy is a wealthy shipping magnate. His stepfather is now running the company but Aaron does much in the day to day. 

“In his spare time he loves golf, baseball, swimming, and damn near made the Olympic fencing team in 1996. He made it in 2000 and came home with a bronze medal. He’s also an accomplished triathlete. He was engaged once but never married. He has no children, which means no baby’s mamas. He’s not extremely close to his family but is duty-bound to the company. 

“He recently made _Forbes_ Top 40 under 40 list and is estimated to be worth somewhere between $300 and $450 million dollars. I honestly didn’t know you could make that much money from shipping. Some call him Hamlet because he tends to seem brooding. There’s also the incident of his father’s sudden death and his mother’s quick remarriage to a long time friend of the father. But unlike Claudius and Hamlet, Aaron and his stepfather seem to get along. 

“Every picture I've found of him with a woman shows he usually likes them blonde, serious, and thin. That could just be for show. There is no criminal record, no history of mental illness or defect, and no addictions. He seems to keep to himself and a small circle of male companions that I like to refer to as a posse. None of them can even touch him in the money department but our boy doesn’t like to play the poor little rich kid. He just wants some semblance of normal.”

“I don’t think paying a woman to be your girl for 6 weeks comes anywhere near normal.” Emily replied. “Is he really an Olympic medalist?”

“Yes ma'am. He was even part of a _Sports Illustrated_ photo spread. Let me just say that I had no idea that fencers had bodies like that.”

“I did.” Erin smiled, still leafing through the pages. “I'm definitely intrigued now.”

“And you're sure he’s not a closet serial killer?” Emily asked. She didn’t know if she was asking Garcia or Erin but she was asking.

“I checked unsolved murders in the areas he’s lived in over his life and nothing popped.” Garcia said. “I actually forgot to mention that before going to work for the family business he did work for nearly three years in the Montgomery County Prosecutor’s office. He started at the bottom like everyone else, had a 69% success rate with his cases, and took a good amount of them to trial. He’s not a Hilton…his name only means money to others who have it. Aaron Hotchner hides in plain sight.”

“So do serial killers.” Emily mumbled. She was disappointed to see both her coffee and cigarette were gone.

“What is with you and the serial killer thing?” Erin looked at Emily. “Penelope this is magnificent. It’s thorough and exactly what I was looking for. You're free to go and enjoy the rest of your weekend.”

“Thank you ma'am.” Penelope smiled and curtsied. “Oh, you told me to remind you about the check for the DC Wives and Children Network.”

“Tim has it. Thanks.”

“Thank you. See you later, Emily.”

“Bye Garcia.”

“So, want to tell me why you can't get serial killers off the brain?” Erin asked again as Penelope left the room and closed the door behind her.

“Oh it’s just this book I read. I need to stop reading those suspense thrillers. It’s a wonder I get any sleep or I'm not scared to death to walk into a room with a strange man.”

“You're never alone, Emily. Morgan is always a step away.”

“Speaking of, if I do this who will be with me?”

“I can't afford to lose Morgan for six weeks.” Erin replied. “And we’re not entirely sure that Mr. Hotchner wants extra company.”

“Oh so his money also pays for my lack of protection?” Emily asked.

“You know I would never do anything like that Emily. We’d hammer out a deal and it would be satisfactory to all parties involved. I would never leave you on your own. You're worth more to me than half a million dollars. That’s as a worker and even more importantly as a human being.”

“Thanks.” She didn’t want to smile but she did. How sad was your life when compliments from your madam made your day? “How long do I have to make up my mind?”

“He asked me for an answer by Monday.” Erin said. “He needs to leave the country on business for nearly two weeks but then he’ll be back and ready to spend some quality time with you.”

“What does he want, Erin? Did he say? Is he looking for a whore/housewife type, a diplomatic date, a travel buddy, a best friend; what?”

“He didn’t say. He just called me and requested the company of the girl he was with tonight for a six week adventure. I told you he called me, on my private cell no less, at 4 in the morning. Do you think my husband was pleased?”

“Rossi.” Emily said.

“What about him?”

“I have a favor to ask.”

“Ask it.” Erin said.

“Can Rossi use some of his connections to find out things that maybe Garcia couldn’t? I know she's brilliant but when someone wants to hide something, they can hide it. Maybe some of those FBI guys can help.”

“He's still tight with a couple of guys over there. I'm meeting him for an early dinner tonight. I'm sure I can convince him to help you out.”

“I owe you one.” Emily said.

“We don’t play that game. You’ve done a lot for me; brought me some very good business. It’s the least I can do for you. Go on, get out of here and enjoy your weekend. You have a lot of thinking to do I'm sure.”

“Yes.” Emily stood from the couch and so did her boss. “Should I come back first thing Monday morning?”

“No, sleep in. I’ll see you around eleven. Do you have to work this weekend?”

“No.” Emily shook her head. “Thank you for your time, Erin.”

“Thanks Emily.”

She nodded and walked out of the office. She waved to Tim, who was now chatting on the phone. At the elevator she ran into Adam Jackson who was also going down.

“What's up Adam?”

“Busy, busy, as always; a call boy’s work is never done.”

“Tell me about it.” Emily smiled. 

“Otto wants to take me to Berlin this summer.”

“That sounds good.”

“I don’t know.” Adam shrugged as they got onto the elevator. “What the hell am I supposed to do while he plays the role with his wife all day? I get bored easily. Bad things happen when I get bored.”

“Then you better tell Otto to keep you happy and occupied.”

“Yeah, I guess I can shop or something.”

Emily tried to smile but it sounded a bit dismal. Trapped in some overpriced condo all day and then carted out for a few hours of sex before you were put away again. She wasn’t the traveling whore; that wasn’t her M.O. She liked having as much control over a situation as possible while making the client think it was all in their hands. That wasn’t an easy balance. 

It was impossible if you weren't on your own turf. And while the many hotels and sometimes bedrooms of the DC Corridor weren't exactly her turf, it was better than being halfway around the world and not knowing when you were going home. Being requested was something she was used to. This request from Aaron Hotchner was something different altogether. Emily had a lot to figure out before Monday morning.

***

“Katya, you're going to spoil your appetite.”

“That’s impossible you know.” Emily smiled as she ran an apple slice through the caramel sauce. “Anyway, if you were so concerned you shouldn’t have given them to me.”

“I can't help but indulge you. It’s a weakness.”

Emily smiled again, munching on golden delicious apples. Jason Gideon was one of her favorite people. What she loved most about him is that never once had money been exchanged between the two of them. They met at a forum on the Holocaust that Emily attended with her stepmother. Jason, a professor at American University, presented his new book, reading portions and having a question and answer session. 

Though the subject matter made her stomach turn, the man discussing it intrigued her immediately. As she got to know him better it surprised Emily that her line of work didn’t turn him off. Jason found it better not to discuss it at all. There were a few times when he told her to be safe or stay safe. Emily always took those words to heart. She knew in another life she and Jason were happily married in the suburbs somewhere.

“I need to talk to you about something.” Emily said.

“You know that you can talk to me about anything.”

“It’s about work.”

“Hmm,” it was all Jason said as he added more seasoning to the sizzling pan. The lamb smelled amazing and it would surely taste that way as well.

He was cooking for her. He cooked for her a lot. In addition to being a world-renown professor, a well known writer and speaker, Jason Gideon was an amazing cook. Often when he and Emily were together, he was cooking for her. 

Sometimes she helped, which usually led to much laughter. Breakfast, lunch, or dinner, he loved making her food. Apparently indulging her was a weakness. Allowing herself to be indulged might be one of Emily’s.

“I know we never talk about it.” she said. “If you just can't do it I totally respect that Jason; sometimes it isn’t pretty. But there's a lot on my mind and you're one of the only people I trust with it. I know you'll give me the educated answer plus the one of a person who cares about me.”

“I'm also one of the few people who knows what it is you do for a living.” He said.

“Yes, that too.”

Emily’s mother, father, and stepmother thought she was an event planner. This had been the cause of some strife since her mother thought such a job was beneath her station. Prentiss was a last name synonymous with political success and power. What the hell did a Yale and Barnard educated woman want to be an event planner for? 

Her father took a more relaxed approach, telling his daughter as long as she was happy then he was happy. When the time came for her to endeavor herself to more serious ventures, many doors would be opened for her. Emily found it better to keep her visitation with her family at a minimum. It saved everyone a lot of discomfort.

“What's the matter?” he asked.

“I had a job last night. It was a pretty regular job, nothing special. We both had a nice time. Early this morning he called my boss and requested my company on what's been dubbed a six week adventure.”

“Adventure?” Jason raised his eyebrow as he put the onions in the frying pan. The fire was now hot enough for them to melt and perfectly season the meat. He turned the fire down so nothing would burn while he sliced peppers.

“That was the word that was given to me.”

“What do you know about this man?”

“I know nothing.” She shook her head. “OK, I know the portfolio Penelope Garcia put together. He’s an heir to a super duper fortune. He's an Olympic bronze medalist if you can believe that shit. He’s like perfect, on paper. For some reason one night with me has…”

“Turned him out, as you would say.” despite himself Jason smiled. 

He didn’t want to talk about this. He knew he wasn’t Emily’s only lover. In fact their sex was infrequent. That didn’t mean he wanted to hear about her other conquests. The woman was brilliant. 

She shouldn’t be wasting her talents satisfying the fat cats in this frequently corrupt city. Emily could do and be anything she wanted. She spoke five languages fluently, could fit in with any group of people, was strong, athletic, well-cultured, and well-read. She was also young. Maybe this was OK with her at 28. 

Jason knew she wouldn’t be 28 forever. But he also knew the world could be cruel and unflinching with young women. Every night he worried about her. He didn’t tell her that because she’d tell him to stop. But the idea of her disappearing for six weeks with some unknown “heir” made his stomach turn. It had an episode of Law and Order written all over it.

“I don’t know what it did but he wants to spend this time with me.”

“You’ve turned down multiple offers like this in the past.”

“Yes I have.” She nodded.

“So does something make him different?”

“No…I don't know. He seems so not at all like the kind of men who do this thing. I know I was only in his company for a few hours but I've been at this for some time. I've been reading people since I was a little girl. I don’t get that vibe from him.”

“What vibe are you talking about?” Jason asked.

“I'm talking about the privileged vibe. So many people in this town think they deserve what they pay for, or get for free. They deserve gold and Cristal and whores and power. They deserve to run and rule the world. 

“I didn’t get that from him at all.” Emily shook her head. “He seemed normal. Not the normal that the powerful try to convey when they’re amongst the masses. He just seemed normal. 

“I could’ve met him in a bookstore, a train station, or some boring ass party in a hotel ballroom. His clothes were expensive. His hands were manicure and his skin smelled fresh. He is of this world but not a part of it. Does that even make sense?”

“It absolutely does.” Jason turned to add peppers to the frying pan. 

Dinner was almost done now. He knew exactly what Emily was thinking, or at least he thought he did. She saw herself in Aaron Hotchner. She saw someone who lived amongst the power, corruption, and privilege but didn’t inhabit it. There were a good amount of them living, breathing, and working in the DC Corridor. 

They didn’t last long. And if this one might be so noble, what was he doing buying high priced flesh? Was he looking for love in all the wrong places? Was he trying to be his father’s son? Was he searching for meaning and adventure in someone he assumed had lived and could help him to do so? 

Jason had no idea. He also hoped that Emily wasn’t going to ask for his advice. He always told her the same thing. Go with your gut, follow your soul, and don’t lose yourself. It would seem improbable to think she expected him to tell her it was perfectly alright to walk into the arms of a man she didn’t even know.

“God, that smells amazing.” Emily leaned over the counter and tried to see what he was doing. “I can't wait to eat it.”

“I think its going to be delicious.” He turned and gave her a smile. “Should we have white wine or Riesling?”

“I think white wine. What’s for dessert?”

“You haven’t even eaten dinner and you want to know what's for dessert.”

“Well I'm getting dessert, right?”

“Good things come to those who wait, Katya.”

“Just so you know, you sound like a fortune cookie.”

“Mmm hmm. Can you set the table please?”

“Sure.” Emily smiled as she got off the barstool and went to the cabinet for dishes. 

She wasn’t sure that Jason could give her the answers she sought. There was a first time for everything. She still loved him. This wasn’t going to be an easy decision to make, and having 48 hours to do so didn’t help. What was probably best for tonight was to enjoy dinner and an intimate evening with one of her favorite people in the world. 

Jason didn’t need to be burdened with the issue of Aaron Hotchner. He knew what she did, supported her with love and a safe place to fall. That didn’t mean he deserved the dirty details. Emily was done giving them to him. 

This was her decision to make and she would do it herself. As of right now, she was going to think about dinner and dessert. In her line of work she was used to making sure the customer was satisfied. Tonight Emily Prentiss would get the satisfaction.

***


End file.
